


Not Made of Glass

by Gorgeous_Girl_Genius



Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing
Genre: Don't Try This At Home, Friendship, Gen, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Past Child Abuse, Precocious Hypersexuality mention, Very underage masturbation referenced, bad form for responding to abuse that works out well anyway
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-23
Updated: 2019-06-23
Packaged: 2020-05-16 22:04:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,763
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19326991
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gorgeous_Girl_Genius/pseuds/Gorgeous_Girl_Genius
Summary: During a game of truth or dare, Korekiyo confesses to a part his abusive past. Miu responds with an inappropriate level of enthusiasm, much to the disdain of everyone - except Korekiyo himself. Korekiyo is instead fascinated by her response and asks for more details. As he walks Miu home, they are able to bond and establish a friendship by talking about their childhood trauma and abuse.





	Not Made of Glass

“Truth or dare, Kiiiiiyo?” Kokichi’s voice rang out with a slight slur to accompany his usual playful drag to the vowels. He was draped upside down over the back of the couch, pretending in earnest to be drunk as his classmates who, sitting around in a circle, were all at least a little past tipsy. Though Korekiyo knew he was faking, he didn’t intend to say anything. It would be impolite, and it wouldn’t accomplish much. On top of that, of course, he was extremely grateful to have been invited to a party with his classmates in the first place. An opportunity to participate in their games didn’t come along very often, and to distract from it would waste the beautiful potential to observe these rituals from the inside. 

“Ah, what a beautiful game I’ve been chosen to partake in! Humanity is so beautiful!” Korekiyo mused, “What wonderful games humans come up with to amuse themselves, and what a beautiful staple of modern teenage party culture you’ve chosen today. It’s an honor.”

“Alright creepshow, but you gotta actually pick one, not just suck humanity’s dick about inventing truth or dare.” Miu sighed, rolling her eyes before taking another drink of alcohol straight from the bottle. 

“Please be silent!” Korekiyo snapped, glaring in her direction. Did she have to interrupt him every time he tried to say anything of remote interest to him? 

“Eeeeeee!” Miu, who had been sitting cross legged in the floor not too far to his right, flinched backward away from the circle of people, a large and definite motion, as if she'd been burned by the words. "I'm sorry, okay? Just, please don't be mad at me!"

Korekiyo sighed deeply. It seemed Miu had two modes, one in which she was everything, and one in which she was nothing. But it wouldn’t do to get angry in this situation. Deliberately taking a deep breath, he committed himself to considering the intention behind her initial statement. Perhaps, he considered, despite her distasteful way of addressing him, she had a point. Participating in the game may work best if he should choose truth or dare a bit more quickly than he’d be inclined to. But which one to choose?

"Truth," he answered with a tone of finality.

"Oookay," Kokichi put a finger to his cheek in an over exaggerated display of thought before continuing playfully. "How abouuuuut… How old were you when you lost your virginity?"

Oh dear. Virginity. What a concept. The state of having not had sex had meaning in many cultures, with an identity based word to go with it. Such a strange concept, but one that humanity considered important, across quite a few cultures. But hardly considered it important to himself. For most cultural constructs that he didn't personally consider important, if he was asked, he could share the information he knew that the asker considered important, but this one presented quite the problem. Even if he was willing to reduce the question to “when did you first have sex?” he wouldn’t know what to answer. He supposed this should serve as a reminder for why he didn’t participate in these games. 

Korekiyo’s eyes scanned the faces of his classmates. Some of them looked excited, Miu, for obvious reasons, Kokichi, who had asked the question, though Korekiyo supposed it was possible he was feigning his interest.  Angie and Rantaro, who both seemed to be generally happily enjoying the game, were looking to him with excitement. Some of them were relatively neutral, Kaede had only typical friendly smile, Gonta seemed to be watching him with interest, and so did Kiibo, albeit with a bit of an embarrassed flush to his cheeks. Maki, pressed into Kaito's side under his arm, was dispassionate as always, as was Kirumi, hands crossed in her lap, eyes closed. Ryoma couldn't spare much interest for anything but the cat that lay purring in his lap.  Himiko looked like she might fall asleep, leaning against Tenko's back, but she was still watching him, head resting on Tenko’s shoulder. Tenko, of course, looked disapproving. Kaito looked so comically uneasy that Kiyo was sure he was downright frightened, and Shuichi, cheeks slightly pink, covered his mouth in an anxious thought that Korekiyo couldn’t decode. Regardless, though, enough expectant eyes were on him that he would have to provide some sort of answer. 

“Ah, well, that is… an interesting question. I suppose we could discuss the cultural construct of virginity, first. Perhaps we could establish what it means, in this culture, to be a virgin? And indeed, it is fascinating what it says about us, in this culture that it’s even a construct we consider. After all, what does it mean that we consider a state of having not participated in an activity something to ‘lose’, that we consider your lack of having done something, an identity marker? Humanity is beautiful in its oddity, is it not?” Korekiyo stalled, grateful that his mask hid his nervous biting his lower lip. 

“Okayyyys, well, to save that lecture from sobering everyone up, let me give Kiyo a new question. How old were you the first time you had sex?”  Kokichi kicked his feet against the wall, seeming to think for a second before a smile wide and mischievous covered his face and he continued, “Of any kind whatsoever. ” 

Korekiyo gritted his teeth. Well, that removed his ability to stall anymore quite neatly, hadn’t it? He would now have to find a way to answer the question, or tell a lie. Any age would work for a lie. He could just say a number. What was normal? 12, 14, yesterday? Just a number, probably somewhere in the teens, that was as much of a lie as he needed, but somehow he couldn’t bring himself to do it. 

“I see, I suppose… you could say… Ah, well, that is to say that… I, well, I don’t remember. My first time, I was so young that I really can’t be certain. Before I was three, does that suffice?” Korekiyo kept his voice light, matter of fact even, but that didn’t affect the weight of his words, and he was well aware that it wouldn’t affect the response. He should’ve lied. He’d have to examine why he hadn’t felt it was an option later. 

Kokichi’s feet fell forward, toppling him over right side up, facing away from Kiyo, his knees hitting the floor so he was kneeling against the couch with the top half of his body on the seat.  Korekiyo looked around, once again glad that he had his mask. The entire class was speechless, their excited or friendly expressions morphing into ones of to discomfort and even horror. Ryoma looked up from his cat with an understated expression of something that Kiyo could best identify as a sort of wistful sympathy. Kaede looked at Shuichi, seemingly seeking direction from him, but he was silent too, wide eyed with horror, and covering his mouth even more deliberately now. Kaito seemed to be trying to decide between looking  the ceiling fan, Maki’s face, or his own feet, anywhere but at Kiyo. Tenko had grabbed a slightly confused looking Himiko by pulling her arms back behind her, locking Himiko against her as if in some sort of attempt to protect her from the words she’d heard. Rantaro looked sheepish, of all things, grimacing slightly with one hand behind his head. Kiibo’s face drained of all color and he suddenly seemed extremely interested in the way his index fingertips looked when pressed together. Angie had pulled a paintbrush from her belt and was now very pointendly brushing her thumb over the bristles. Kirumi opened her eyes and mouth, made a small forward motion with her hands, but then seemed to think better of saying anything, setting her face back into a neutral pleasant expression that was obviously nothing but a mask. 

Well, now he’d done it. The reaction here would be the same as it always was. His life was not meant to be discussed honestly. Pity was sure to follow, he knew, just as soon as someone in the group, most likely Kaede, managed to work up the power of speech. But it was not Kaede who spoke first, and the first words were far from the pity he’d expected. 

* * *

“Woah, creepshow, I fucking wish I was you!” Miu exclaimed with a tone of glee. She was aware that the air itself seemed to be heavy with tension, but she wasn’t sure why and even if she had been, she couldn’t help the words from flowing out of her mouth in her excitement. She’d never heard something so good. Imagining being not only allowed to touch herself however she’d wanted, but having someone actively touching her, wanting her enough to do so? That was beyond perfect. 

Kiyo blinked several times, staring at her with a confusion so obvious that it was readable on only the top half of his face. Miu looked around and shrank backwards from the circle. A range of faces, from angry glares to displeasure, to absolute shock told her that no one was happy with her again. She wished she could tell why. 

“What?! What did I say?!” She whimpered. “Don’t give me the silent treatment, come on!” 

Kaede was the first one to find her voice. “Miu!” she yelled “How could you say something so insensitive?!”

“What?! What did I say?” Miu whined, scrambling backwards. Why did everyone seem to always hate her? “I’ll make it up to you, just let me off the hook already, okay?”

“I’m not ‘letting you off the hook’! Korekiyo just confessed to being raped as a child and I can’t think of anything more insensitive than saying that you wish you had been too! What is wrong with you?!” 

Miu struggled to form words, sputtering as she did. She had to defend herself, to get out of their anger somehow. But before she was able to respond, Kiyo had already swooped in with a response.

“Kaede,” His voice was barely above a whisper, but Miu could hear a threat behind the words “I believe in this situation, it is considered my place to judge her, is it not?” 

“Oh, um, yeah, geez, Kiyo, I didn’t mean to like, step on your toes…” Kaede blushed, pulling back away from him. “I just, well, I didn’t want you to have to be responsible for anything when… well, you know. Sorry, Kiyo.” 

“Thank you for leaving it to me,” Kiyo added, the same sharp edge to his voice. How pissed was he going to get with her? If he sounded this angry with Kaede, what was going to happen to her? Miu whined in fear, shrinking back away from him even further. But the rage she anticipated didn’t come.

“Miu, dear, I’m fascinated. Do tell me, what do you mean by that?” Kiyo said, shifting his full body to face her. The edge was to his tone was gone, he really was fascinated, excited if anything. Was he getting off on this? Miu wondered. The tonal shift was dramatic, as if his anger had evaporated away entirely as soon as he had turned to face her.

“I mean what I fucking said!” She’d found her confidence again, its return surprising her as much as it ever could. She could never fully predict the tone of the words that would fall out of her mouth when she tried to speak her thoughts, but she could no longer be too surprised when she found a whole different quality in it than she’d thought she was feeling. 

“I wish I’d been fucked by the time I was three! It’s fucking embarrassing that I was 13 goddamn years old before I got someone to fuck me. When I was three, no one even let me put my hands in my panties!” Miu groaned. “I mean it, they fucking hated me, my dumbass parents, I mean, they still do, but like, all I ever fucking heard was ‘Miu, get your hands out of your panties,’ ‘Good little girls don’t touch themselves that way,’ ‘Where did you even  _ learn _ the word pussy?!’ Shit like that. I mean, rape is bad and all that shit, but like, god, I fucking wish someone wanted me to cum so much they made it happen. Or, you know, wanted to use  _ me _ to make them cum that much!” 

Kiyo was watching, leaning in closer, seeming to drink in her words. Miu couldn’t figure out why, but she’d never really been able to make sense of why he did anything, so she supposed this had no reason to be different. She stole a glance around at everyone, hoping that Kiyo's interest would have resolved their anger. But it hadn't. Kiibo’s face seemed to be whiter than should be possible, and he wouldn’t meet her eyes - or even her face - with his. Kokichi was wearing some mix of a mischievous smile and an awkward grimace, unable to figure out which sort of expression to paste on his face. Even they weren’t going to touch this, and of course, no one else was ever as happy with her as Kiibo and Kokichi. They all seemed speechless, the ones who would even look in her direction meeting her with angry glares and blank, baffled stares. Kaede actually looked like she was in physical pain trying to prevent herself from yelling at her again. Why was everybody so mad? Why was Kiyo so interested? Why was everybody so mad on Kiyo’s behalf, when Kiyo was so happy? The whole situation defied explanation.

“Ah,” Kiyo smiled, tilting his face upward, eyes closed in an ecstatic expression of joy. “How beautiful humanity is in its cruelty. Denying you an outlet for your desires, denying you the right to touch yourself, to seek pleasure in your body, and denying me the choice to participate or not. How cruel. How terrible. Denying my no, denying your yes, cruelty running in opposite directions, but both are cruelty all the same.” 

As weird as his phrasing and his focus was, what Kiyo said made sense. He’d actually understood her!

“Fuck yeah!” Miu nodded excitedly. “You fucking get me! Like, me, I was so desperate to get my fingers, and, like, anything else I could find, into my little loli pussy that I couldn’t fucking stand it. Better to just not let me say no than pull the shit that my parents did.” 

“Ah, how beautiful. Would I have switched places with you, given the opportunity? Allow me to ponder that question as I walk you home, though. It appears we’re frightening our classmates.” He extended a bandaged hand, palm upward, toward Miu, an implicit invitation. Miu blinked. Everyone was pissed, except Kiyo. Kiyo, who was regularly telling her to remain silent forever, who seemed to like her least of all of his classmates, was offering his hand to her, to walk her home, just after, and seemingly because, she had said something that every single other person in the room seemed to have thought was a horrible thing to say to him. He wasn’t secretly some kind of serial killer who was just trying to get her alone, right? 

Miu supposed if he was, she could handle it when it became relevant. Things didn’t look better for her here, not with the judgement she was dealing with so certain and not without anyone there who seemed willing to defend her. Miu put her hand in Kiyo's and allowed herself to be pulled up onto unsteady feet. 

“Goodbye friends,” Kiyo said softly, “It seems the evening has called me elsewhere. Perhaps we should forget this ever happened before school on Monday, hm?” 

“Sure thing!” It was Kaito who spoke, his words under a nervous pressure. Was he grateful that Kiyo had said that? Did that make sense? Kiyo sounded more threatening than anything. Why was Kaito sounding pleased that he'd been threatened? Regardless of the reason, he waved with a determined sort of cheer before returning his attention to Maki. 

“Okies, have fun using the cum dumpster, Kiiiyo!” Kokichi had found his composure again, and at some point while she wasn’t looking, he’d gotten up from his position in front of the couch and draped himself over Shuichi’s lap. Cum dumpster? Miu could barely think straight when someone called her anything of the sort. So Kokichi must not be mad at her, she thought, as she screamed out her arousal as usual.

“Byebye, you dumb shota baby! Be sure to use that mouth for something it’s good for tonight!”

“I know, I know,” Kokichi sighed overdramatically, “Telling lies and sucking dick, right? I’ll tell you if I get lucky with this one! It doesn’t count as kissing and telling if you’re only telling a filthy disgusting cock sleeve anyways.” Miu moaned immediately. The idea of her entire personhood, her very self, reduced to a sexual object, for use by anyone, it distracted her so entirely that she nearly forgot where she was. 

“C-cock sleeve?” Miu repeated, “Aaah, yeah!!”  Eyes closed, she didn’t get the chance to look around at everyone again before Kiyo was gently pulling her out the door by her hand. Once she was outside and thinking clearly again, she hoped that Kiibo wouldn’t still be upset with her the next time she saw him. Probably not, since he didn’t seem to have it in his forgiving heart to stay angry with her, even if everyone else seemed to hate her. She took several unsteady steps, absorbed in her thoughts before Kiyo spoke again. 

“I don’t think I should’ve liked to switch places with you, not on the whole, at least; I had too much love to give up. It would never be worth the bond I would lose, just to escape the pain. I wouldn’t trade my life for yours, just for that. Do you think you truly would want to trade with me, all things considered?” He didn’t face her, walking alongside her,  keeping the pressure of his gaze directed up towards the starry skies. 

“Well, fuck, I don’t know your life story, so I don’t fucking know. But I sure as hell know my parents don’t love me, and they never fucking did, so if there’s love  _ and _ cum, sounds like a real win-win to me. I’d put up with a whole lot of shit for someone who cared about me  _ and _ let me fuck myself.”

“Ah, you’re so beautiful!” Kiyo called out, tilting his face even further up to the sky. Well, that had never happened before. Miu felt her cheeks burning. She’d never in her entire life, been praised for the desires she’d had when she was much too young to have been having them. It was disconcerting to be called beautiful, almost unsettling.

“Well, of course I am?! You seen this hot body? These tits?! I’m the fucking greatest!” Miu felt herself say, with a bold confidence she didn’t have to try to make sound genuine. She wouldn’t admit to anything amiss, to feeling anything about that, although her heart felt weightless in her chest as she instantly replayed the words in her head.  _ You’re so beautiful. _

Kiyo turned his eyes back to Miu, examining her so closely that she blushed even more deeply than she had before.

“What the fuck you staring at, creepshow? I mean, I guess I did just tell you to look at my tits, but still.” Miu squirmed uncomfortably under his gaze. It was like he was trying to see through her, to see to the feelings she was having that she was desperately trying to hide. 

“Ah, terribly sorry dear, I didn’t mean to stare. It’s just that I’m surprised at myself. Honestly, I don’t know how I missed your beauty before. I suppose some defensiveness was mostly at work. Oftentimes, others have little interest in hearing me speak. Having you speak over me, I suppose caused some feelings of resentment. But regardless of the reason I hadn’t before, I’ve noticed it now. What a beautiful person you are, what a beautiful child you were.” 

Miu blinked. What was she supposed to say to that? How did she even feel about that? She couldn’t tell. Did she feel… bad? Guilty maybe? 

“Well, I can let you say your shit, you know. Like, if you’re gonna fucking be like this with me, I mean.” Miu supposed she must feel guilty. She never would’ve said anything like that if she didn’t. She was agreeing to spend her time listening to Kiyo’s monologues, so it must be really important to her. 

“How very reasonable. Thank you for indulging me, my dear. Please, if you wish to do it further at the moment, do tell me more about your experiences with sexuality, and why you would’ve preferred mine?” Now he was asking her to talk more about herself. He must be telling the truth. He really must like her too, right?

“Well, my parents  _ fucking _ hated me. I mean it. If you thought I thought touching myself was important, you oughta hear how much these fuckers think so. I was a weird kid, you know. Already wanting to do shit like that from the time I was small. Painful stuff especially freaked them out.” Miu meant to describe more, give more general details, but instead she found a story falling from her lips all at once. 

“On my 6th birthday, we had big fucking party. Very American, cause my parents loved that shit, like, full on streamers for decorations, presents, a beautiful fluffy birthday dress for me, singing happy birthday, all that shit. And like, the hugest fucking birthday cake. When I saw that fucking cake, I couldn’t pay attention to any of the other shit that was going on that day. I was obsessed. My parents laughed. They thought it was so funny, and they were happy with me for once, because a good kid is obsessed with cake. That’s so… childish. But really, all I wanted were the candles. I saw them on top. They were so fucking beautiful. They were big, thicker than birthday candles usually are, all pink and white just spiralled together, fucking barber pole shit but with the prettiest pink you could imagine. I wanted those candles so fucking bad.” Miu’s voice started to shake. She would normally stop right then, and run away, but what could she do? She was drunk, she was tired, they were alone, walking down the side of the road, headed in the same direction, and she’d just been invited to open up. She was already here, and she couldn’t stop herself continuing for Kiyo to listen.

“I didn’t like disappointing them. I always did. I fucking acted like I liked to, but I secretly tried so hard, all the time, not to. That day, it was really important. Everyone was there. But then the candles, they went and lit them. I tried so goddamn hard, but when they were singing happy birthday  I just watched the fire and the wax just melting, dripping down the side of the candles. They were teasing me with those gorgeous candles, that perfect little droplet of wax just  _ begging _ to touch my skin. I couldn’t resist anymore. I grabbed the candle and I ran from our dining room to the living room. I knew they’d catch me but goddamn it, I was going to drip that wax on my own pussy if it would be the death of me.” Tears stung Miu’s eyes. How could she be telling this story like this? She looked at Kiyo. He wasn’t watching her anymore, but he was clearly listening intently. He didn’t speak when she paused, just waiting for her to continue. 

“Well, that dress was perfect for lifting, and I only needed to pull my panties to the side really quick. I got what I wanted. That perfect drop of hot wax. My dad, I swear to god, if it wasn’t for my mom, he would’ve beaten me to death that day. He beat the shit out of me, but I screamed and moaned and he got so much more pissed at that. That was  _ not _ how a good girl takes a spanking and he was not going to let me turn it into something perverse. That wasn’t anything weird for us. He was always spanking me, but he was so fucking pissed that day. I embarrassed him in front of everyone and he was hellbent on beating me until I stopped making the punishment weird and sexual. Mom finally intervened and forced him to put me down before he beat me to fucking death. But don’t get the wrong idea, she didn’t do it for me. She told him I wasn’t worth it. I wasn’t worth getting in trouble. She said they could try again. Try having a new kid, a new day. I wasn’t worth trying to beat into shape anymore. Because what kind of little girl acts like that? And, well, I’m pretty sure they gave up on me that day. They were trying to make it work before. I mean, they treated me like I was worse than fucking worthless, but they had been trying to at least pretend they loved me, trying to correct me. But after that day, they were just… I don’t know, cold, I guess. 

“They hated me. God, they hated me so much. What the fuck was so wrong with me that I  _ wanted _ that shit? That’s how they thought. And I couldn’t be redirected. I was fucking unstoppable.” 

“And thank goodness for that.” Miu was startled by his sudden input as Kiyo spoke his first words since she had started. There was an earnesty behind them that caught her even more off guard than his sudden speaking in the first place. 

“You were a beautiful child,” Kiyo continued, “And absolutely nothing was wrong with you. Precocious hypersexuality may be the explanation you are looking for, but it’s certainly not something  _ wrong _ .” Miu’s breath caught in her throat. She tried to smooth it, sucked in air deliberately, but only managed a ragged, hitched inhale. 

“No,” She objected, voice trembling, “You’re not allowed to just say shit like that. Kiyo, fuck you! If I’d just been a good kid, they would’ve loved me. And it’s fucking fine that they didn’t! I made my choice! I chose to be vulgar and gross and ‘preciously sexual’ instead of a good kid who parents should love! It sucks that shit works that way, but I made the choice to be bad. Me. I’m the one who’s bad.” Miu sobbed, angrily wiping the tears from her face with her sleeve. She couldn’t believe she was crying, couldn’t believe she was letting him see her like this. 

“Miu,” Kiyo’s voice was barely above a whisper, “That’s not true. And I think you know it. Think of this for me, Miu. Should you have a baby, and that’s what they wanted to do, would you still love them?” 

“That’s fucking different!” Miu yelled. It was. That was nothing like what her parents had to go through, nothing like what she’d done. 

“Is that how you perceive things?” 

“Maybe? I don’t know!” Miu suddenly launched herself toward Kiyo, wrapping her arms around his waist, sobbing desperately into his chest. Kiyo readily returned her hug, running his hands over her back. Miu allowed herself to sob, to scream, to cry openly. But then she didn’t have a choice. It was too late. She’d already gotten here without running away. There was no avoiding vulnerability now. Kiyo didn’t seem to mind standing stopped on the sidewalk, holding Miu and stroking her back, so there they stood, neither speaking, for several minutes. 

“Please, don’t leave.” Miu finally spoke. 

“Never.” Kiyo said simply. Miu felt her body bounce backward and her face cover itself with a grin. She wiped the tears from her eyes before she spoke. 

“Good, then! I mean, you got lucky enough to get to be friends with the most gorgeous girl genius ever, so you’d have to be pretty fucking crazy to leave anyway.” 

Kiyo looked thoughtful. “I suppose I would.” 

Miu blinked. What was she supposed to say to that? No one ever responded like that to what she said before. A day for firsts with Kiyo, she supposed. Miu fidgeted with her hair, rubbing it between her finger and thumb, then turned away from Kiyo to continue walking forward. 

“So, I just spilled all that shit about my life, so it’s only fair for you to tell me about yours, right?” Miu said, directing her gaze to the line between the sidewalk and the street beside her. 

“Ah, is that how you perceive things? Well, I must say I certainly don’t mind. It’s… refreshing.”   
Refreshing? What was that supposed to mean? Before she had a chance to discover which words would come out of her mouth to ask that, though, she’d left enough beats of silence for Kiyo to continue. 

“I was so young. I can’t remember my first time. I’ve tried before, but I truly can’t remember anything about it. I know that I didn’t have a choice. Not a real one anyway. It was simply expected. There are some things you don’t remember doing for the first time, sitting, taking your first steps, eating, going to bed. They’re most people have done for as long as they can remember, aren’t they? And not only do you not remember the true first time ever, you’d be hard pressed to find the first time you even remember doing it. It’s just something that you, by the time of your first memory, had done so many times, and would continue to do so many times, that rarely does one specific circumstance stand out. 

“Sex was like that for me. I couldn’t place in time for you the first time I did it. I only knew that it was always expected of me, and I would continue to do it. Was I allowed to say no? Never, no more than I was allowed to say no to anything else I was directed to do. But did I want to say no? Well, that’s another question entirely. I’d like to say that I never wanted to, and in some senses that’s true. I certainly don’t remember ever actually trying to say no. I wouldn’t do that. Far too disrespectful to be disobedient and object to anything expected of me, you know. My no was denied, but not on the level that I actually objected, and had it disrespected. Just on the level that I was never asked if I meant yes, and I was never to object to any directive I was given.

“Should I have even wanted to say no, would it have been permitted? I’m sure it wouldn’t have. But the fact that I didn’t, that I never objected, I’m not sure what that means.  I’ve long given up trying to discover the answer. I suppose it doesn’t matter. It hurt me the same amount, I was equally forced, equally abused, if we’d like to call it that. Whether I would have wanted to say no, I suppose doesn’t matter, as the problem lies in the expectation, and the assumption that I would always do as I was told. The issue lies in the fact that I had no right to suggest an objection.” 

“Oh… well, then…” Miu found her words coming to her with some difficulty. What a story. What a weird, appropriately bizarre for Kiyo way to feel. “That’s really fucked up, Kiyo. Like, super fucking fucked up.” 

Kiyo laughed slightly. “Is that your perception of that?” 

“Well, yeah, like, fuck that shit. That shouldn’t be allowed. Like, that’s really a fucking disgusting way to treat a kid. I’d still trade you for it, though. Not like you were lucky, that’s totally fucked up, and abuse and shit, but that’d be more fun for me than the shit my parents did, you know what I mean? Probably not as fun for other kids. But well, you know, trading trauma for better trauma for me, right?” Wait. Probably not for other kids. She was different. Because something was fucked up with her, because she was born with some kind of problem, or because she hit her head or something, but for some reason, something was wrong with her and that made her different. 

Suddenly it clicked. It made sense now why everyone had been so angry. Because no one in their right mind would rather be raped than, well, go through anything else. Because she hadn’t explained anything about her family life already including being unloved, neglected, or anything else. Even if she had offered an explanation, they probably wouldn’t have understood it, because it was still insane and fucked up to honestly want to ‘trade up’ to that, but she’d only said the part that she was jealous, to them, her small comment that rape was bad was lost in her insistance that she’d like it better and they’d thought she was calling it good, okay to have happened to him. Why could she never figure shit like that out  _ before _ she’d gone and said something? 

She sighed, looked over at Kiyo, offering a shy hand. He took it readily, interlocking their fingers. At least he hadn’t interpreted it that way. Maybe she’d find out some other time, much too late to do anything about it, why that was. But for whatever reason, what she’d said had immediately made him much fonder of her. 

“Thank you,” he said quietly.

“What for?” Miu asked, then reflexively added “I mean, not that the world shouldn’t thank me constantly for being so fucking awesome,” Kiyo laughed quietly again, a fond, gentle sound. Would this be the new normal? Would he just be happy about everything she said? She hoped so. 

“For treating me the same way you always have. Dealing with what I did, I won’t minimize it. What I went through was terrible. I’m traumatized by it to this day. But I don’t like the way people look at me when I tell them that that happened to me. I don’t like the things they say, the  _ pity _ they look at me with when I tell them. Miu, I want to thank you for being the first person to ever hear that and then treat me like I’m not made of glass.” 


End file.
